Time and time again
by CoolSockswithCuteSkulls
Summary: Yes, little stories based off Random Word prompts, mostly the Gloomsville gang, romantic Skull BoyXRuby or any couples you suggest. But I have one weird word generator so expect weird drabbles. Can also be friendship and requests are accepted!
1. Chapter 1

**_Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow_**

As Ruby rolled out of bed and finger-combed her lava-locks, the perky goth found it hard to believe that her short bob was once a waterfall of fiery hair. The changing length of her tresses was certainly a tangled tale.

When she had noticed all of her favorite Disney heroines had long, lustrous manes– even the mermaid– the message was crystal clear. Real women sported Rapunzel-like lock and the care and maintenance of one's tresses would impart success in life and love. This by the time she was 10 years old, artfully tumbled crimson curls fell to her waist in waves long before Misery's great, great aunt caused a tsunami in Joyville. Despite her mother preferring children's hair to be manageable rather than mainstream, Mrs Gloom became the willing slave to her daughter's hairstyle. The poor lady spent up to an hour each morning giving Ruby French braids, neat plaits or aptly angled ponytails– all before breakfast!

That is, until Skull Boy thought that he was related to a long line of professional hairdressers. When he had invited her to be his first customer, Ruby had not expected much to happen. Unfortunately and unintentionally, he had put Ruby into a heavy trance, induced by a relaxing head massage of hot coconut oil and frothy home-cooked herbal concoctions. Hence, Ruby had not noticed him waving a pair of sharp scissors or the two waste buckets for shorn hair.

When she had finally snapped out of her reverie, her reflection in the cracked mirror left her dumbfounded. Judging from her unexpected, less-than-enthused reaction and the desperate way the redhead kept fingering her shortened locks, the skeleton realized his huge mistake and quickly rummaged through his salon-grade hair products for a remedy. While he scrutinized the area for a growth potion however, she examined her new haircut before realizing how it actually framed her face perfectly. The wind felt deliciously cool on her exposed neck and for once, there were no annoying knots between her locks. Most of all, no tendrils of hair could block her view of Skull Boy's enchanting emerald eyes when he started profusely apologizing to her, even bowing before the girl.

Her female friends could not understand her decision and why she wanted her magma mane shortened compared to its tremendous length before. Yes, there were moments she felt a rush of yearning at shampoo commercials, when a stranger's beautiful French braid glinted in the moonlight or once Iris and Misery tossed their loosened makes to attract extra attention from the opposite gender.

Then the wind (or Misery's tornado) came, swinging their hair hair into their faces. As they flailed, wiping stray strand from their mouths, Ruby could toss her head without being blinded before Skull Boy would stop whatever he was doing just to run his bony fingers through the now easily accessible tendrils as Ruby's exclusive and trusted hairdresser. Any pangs for longer strands fell away with the touch of his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thanks to one review, I actually managed to type this huge drabble on a word that initially killed me. Please review and help me improve! :D_**

**_Word: Communication_**

Skull Boy looked at himself in the mirror, going through the same routine that he had forced himself to endure each day before the Big Day came. His mouth curled itself into the appropriate contortions to produce unfamiliar words but despite the promise they held, he could not help but believe how absent beauty was.

Why was it him asking? After all, was it not a free world for woman? He knew Ruby would certainly not have struggled just to ask him on a date. To him, a small conversation was a cunning creature and confronting it would be suicidal for a skeleton like him. What with exchanging ideas, considering others' opinions, shifting positions; he risked changing himself, admitting he was wrong or coming to acknowledge the other person's perspective. Ruby, on the other hand, probably viewed conversation as another lovable Doom Kitty and was flexible enough to get out of any awkward situations. Which he or the others usually created. He was just behind the somewhat pessimistic Misery and the gossiping Iris. Like a few inches above Frank and Len only.

Of course, if he wanted to reach for his stars and moon in the sky, he will give his undead life just for something more with her. Holding her, helping her... kissing. Idle wonderings, flights of fancy, he was a teenage boy after all, testosterone or not.

They did not discuss feelings, although they could talk about practically everything else. It had been surprising how... anxious, a word could make him, his hyperventilation worthy of Scaredy's standards.

"Girlfriend."

He had held back for so long, kept himself in the friend corner, but now, when she wanted more... when they were both ready for more, Skull Boy had no idea know where to start. And he was supposedly the go-to guy for idea.

Maybe he could avoid dialogue and just go with subtle messages so that she cannot reject him outright.

Like food? He would appreciate a decent meal especially one with a lot of sweet dates and DATE the person who gave it to him, because food is the key to anyone's heart?

When the warm aroma of her Gingerbread house assaulted his sensitive nasal cavity, he knew his culinary skills would just insult a master chef like Ruby. That, and he currently lacked a circulatory system but he was still charmed with food. Maybe the phrase was slightly innaccurate.

Poetry? Serenading? She did love his voice, he was confident of that. Something told him though that Frank and Len's speakers would just drown him out. If he went along with the poem idea, Poe would probably butt in at the most important stanza claiming that Skull Boy had plagiarized the dapper crow's many sonnets. A screaming match over copyright issues was certainly not romantic. Maybe funny but not to a peacemaker like Ruby.

The television held some promising ideas, however. Skull Boy stared bright eyed at the advertisement on the screen. "Say it with flowers," it promised.

What, exactly, could be said with flowers confused him, what with them having many meanings, many traditions involved in them.

Carnations had different meanings depending upon their colours and Skull Boy discovered a lot of flowers had the same effect. Roses. Tulips. Poppies. Lillies. It was hard to chose a single one.

The cactus meant endurance. The daisy depicted innocence. The daffodil had many different meanings, from respect to unrequited love. The coriander flower meant lust, which Skull Boy quickly dismissed considering his lack of hormones and just how revolting he found the subject to be.

Hydrangeas meant 'thank you for understanding', but it could also mean heartlessness. The sweet pea meant 'thank you', but it was also a departure. Mistletoe meant 'kiss me' and Skull Boy, much to his own surprise, stored that particular thought away for later Aster was a flower of love, buttercup was of cheeriness. Orange blossom meant innocence and eternal love, the orchid had multiple meanings, love, beauty.

Even after doing thorough research, and entering the alien realm ceremoniously called 'The florists', he still had no idea which flower had the best meaning.

He wandered around, waiting for someone to come to the counter, looking at the flowers. He touched a petal here and there, but nothing was saying 'Buy Me!' to him. Could any words even describe Ruby?

"Hon, are you just going to wait here until we use genetic engineering to come up with a new type of flower that is perfect your lady friend?"

Skull Boy then knew his roots (pun intended) would save the day once again.

With restriction enzymes, some DNA ligase and just awesome skills that made a usually 19-years long process shorten to 19 hours, he had finally created a perfect flower for her. Yet standing outside Ruby's bedroom, he lost his nerve. Until he also remembered he had no nervous system so there was nothing to be nervous about when he knocked her door except for the eternal 'friend-zone'.

"Man, I can really encourage myself. Note to self: I am not a descendant of motivational speakers." Skull Boy mumbled, trying to ignore Ruby's frantic packing of Doom Kitty's cat teasers and her soft reply to _wait a little longer_ while he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He clenched the flowers, the plastic covering crinkled against his palm. Would she get the meaning or the name?

When Ruby flung the door open, she gave a sheepish smile to Skull Boy who just focused his pensive stare on his flower. She followed his eyes and much to the immense delight of the avid gardener, it was a...

Actually, she didn't know what it was. Usually, she could rattle off everything in her flower catalogue but this one stumped her. In fact, she had never even seen a flower as exquisite as this. Soft, straight and velvet petals of red and black without a rip, a hole, or a dent. There was a subtle yet spicy fragrance to it unlike the usually strong lavenders and roses. The green leaves that just closed like the mimosa upon touch, somehow making her think of a shy but gentle person.

As she cooed over the flora, Skull Boy could not help but give a sigh of relief. Of course she would appreciate it, only she could truly see the beauty in everything.

It took some time for the words to come up because he really had left her speechless thanks to the tender flower. Trust him to always surprise her. And she always loved a good surprise.

"Oh Skull Boy, it's beautiful! And really unique! Where did you get it from? The person must have a green thumb."

"Well… more of genetic thumb. I actually created it thanks to my ancestors, the great genetic scientists of their time."

By then, his natural love for exploring different talents and coming up with more personas washed away his anxiety attack until he saw Ruby delicately running her fingers through the stem of the flower, shyly glancing at him,

"Watcha gonna call it then, Skull Boy?"

"_Skullby Gloy."_

Ruby blinked, bewildered at the unusual name but how familiar it sounded. She tunneled her way to the deepest recesses of her mind but nada, zilch. As a matter of fact, the only ones with a name sounding similar to that was Skull Boy and her...

_Holy Glumyums. Could it be...?_

As realization dawned upon her, and she took in Skull Boy's vermillion skull, Ruby's eyes became half-lidded to hide the impish intention she had.

"Hey Skulls, do you have a meaning for this?"

"Huh?"

"Well, most flowers have lots of meanings; love, affection, jealousy, endurance, lust..."

Ok, maybe she went too far with that last word because the skeleton looked like he wanted to try all forms of suicide even if they all failed and would just leave him with a new bruise or a new body. He quickly recovered before she apologized though.

"Well, I'm giving it to you now, you know, cus you're the best in botany.. ok, maybe Iris is just as good considering Venus. So, could you give it one?"

Now it was her turn to blush to the point it reached her neck and the crimson colour matched her hair perfectly.

"Any meaning huh? Like, if I say that if you give it me, and I say it means you're asking for a date... will you accept it?"

"Only if you accept that request the flower is asking on my behalf cus, I'm still new to this..."

"You would be a gladioli then." Ruby's blush faded from fiery to a faint dust of pink that came from pure affection and trying to express it.

"It's a good thing there are flowers to tell us then." Skull Boy whispered suddenly bashful. He then gently tucked the Skullby Gloy behind her ear.

"6 bells at the Coffin Bean and Tear?"

"Nice." He briefly closed his eyes in pure bliss when she casually brushed her hands over his skull and silently closed the door to barely block out her squeals of delight, much to Skull Boy's amusement.

Until it hit him.

What kind of flower would be good to say 'Thank You'?

Skull Boy slapped himself hard before trudging to his working desk. Back to his research.

As he stared at the garden just below his window, the one Ruby had tenderly nursed at the tender age of 2, he knew it would be worth it for the happiest girl in the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Word: Chair _**

**Told you my word generator was weird. ****Today, I wanted to try writing a friendship-based drabble so I made a kind of 'Wheel of Fortune' and the lucky pair was Iris and Poe. Actually, now that I think of it, they didn't really have a lot of interaction but based on what I have seen in 'Happy Yam Ween' and 'Safety Rules', this is what I came up with. Thanks for the reviews though, JokerCarnage5 :D! **

**Please review and tell me how I can improve!**

For one who did not like to sit still, Iris was like a child in a toy shop when Poe brought her to the furniture store. When the dapper crow knew that the cyclops' old chair had completely collapsed, he as usual swooped in to save the day.

* * *

Though he was now regretting ruining his high reputation amongst the fancy connoisseurs he often bantered with when his superior mind needed to be stimulated.

"It's so squishy!" Iris cried delightedly as she leaned back, lifting her legs off the ground.

"Whooo!" Iris yelped as the new, expensive top-of-the-line office chair tilted back father than expected. She giggled as she tilted it forward again, blushing. "That's gonna take some getting used to."

"I've never seen anyone so excited about a new piece of furniture," Poe grumbled.

"That's because you've always had fancy chairs," Iris scoffed until she found the compartment in the arm-rest that contained the controls. "Hey, sweet!" She began pushing buttons at random.

"C-c-c-c-oooo-l i-i-it i-i-is v-v-v-ib-ra-te-te-ingggg…"

"That would be the built in massage feature," Poe rolled his eyes, but Iris was distracted with the whole array of buttons.

"I still don't understand how you totally destroyed… the… last one…"

Even as he spoke, Iris began spinning the chair in circles,. She got a good run on before she lifted her legs and threw her hands in the air. "Wheeeeee!" The spinning continued for some time. "This one spins even better than my last one!" Iris yelled, still going in .

Poe had his wings akimbo and _glowered_. "_That_ is what you did to your last chair?"

The spinning slowly came to a halt when Iris giggled and tried to stand up. "Maybe…" She sheepishly and sluggishly replied, before falling back into the chair. "Whoa, dizzy."

_Must… not… smile._

"Is this what you do every time you are supposedly doing your homework?"

"No…"

Iris shook her head, apparently to help with the dizziness. "Not all the time."

Poe managed a long suffering sigh, concealing any expression of amusement that he may have allowed to seep through his feathers, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Go chair sliding cus of that convenient staircase over there?"

...

* * *

"Can you believe it? Banished from the heaven called the furniture shop? Oh the agony!" Poe groaned before he quickly covered it with a cough as Gloomsvillians gawked at his petulant whining. Or maybe it was the expensive chair he and Iris finally bought before their eternal exile. Either way, the exuberant adventuress wheeled Poe to the house, almost making up for his lack of an ergonomic broomstick or the luxurious flying coffin he had been eyeing ever since it appeared in the _'Gentleman's Guide to Indispensable Items'._

Then again, he could imagine the authors of all his opulent lifestyle magazines shaking their heads after the fracas Iris and him stirred up when they hoisted the chair all the way to the highest floor and slid down the slippery rails of the staircase, complete with wild whoops, weaseling waffles whenever wobbling women walked past the staircase… yes, somehow that did not seem right to the eyes of the upperclass. He would have to try and amend his mistake.

For today however, ballocks to society.

Poe hummed happily until something else occurred to him, "Er... dear Iris, could you, well, be a dear and not tell anyone once we get home?"

Confused, Iris her only eyebrow, "Why? It was so much fun!"

"Yes, but I would rather not. After all, I cannot risk being thrown out of every furniture shop."

At that, Iris' eye became downcast, trying to mask how hurt she felt until Poe whispered mischievously into her ear, "So I can pretend that it was the cleaner who spilled the buckets."

Iris smiled before she heaved a sigh of relief, "Oh good cus Skull Boy kinda posted the entire thing on the Internet. Heh, he even made a funny show out of it."

Ok, now someone was going to pay.

"FAST IRIS! RUN LIKE THE WIND AND CRUSH THAT SKELETON!"


	4. Chapter 4

**_HISHE— Sunny Daze_**

Secret agents! The very word conjures up mystery and intrigue, with an alluring atmosphere of glamour and wealth behind the famous synonyms of 'spies'. Yet the harsh reality is that secret agents have existed since time immemorial when creatures needed to obtain information about their target for the latter' end. Thanks to well-known writers such as John Bunyan, John Le Carre and Robert Ludlum popularizing the spy genre book, secret agents often inspired the layman. Including a certain skeleton who after a fruitful but frustrating day was determined to uncover the secrets of his prime target. Gloom. Ruby Gloom.

The day had been bizarre to say the least. After delightful decades of downpours, Gloomsvillle's sunny climate was exposed once Misery took the rain clouds along with her visits to her relatives. Suffice to say, they hated every sizzling second of it and to bring back Misery's special effect, Ruby, Skull Boy and eventually Iris had ventured to Gloomsville's underground cave system, trying to track the banshee until the tunnel walls caved in.

It was during the chaos, upon fearing that they were trapped for eternity, that Ruby wanted to reveal a secret to him. Normally, as the idea man and at that time, a relative of action heroes, he was expected to ignore the beauty's attempts for 'sissy' talk but Skull Boy could never refuse to indulge her requests.

Several times, the perky goth was interrupted by the persistent cyclops who was trying to avert Ruby's attention to the rain leaking through the soil. For the first time in forever, the redhead appeared to be irked by her loud best friend. Usually Skull Boy had known Ruby to be a tolerant human and to see her exasperated with her attempts to convey her message to the boney boy was a warning sign that it was something imperative about him.

Then again, he was the ultimate culprit. When Skull Boy spotted the crystalline fluid dancing across Ruby's suddenly rosy cheeks, the skeleton had immediately his cool facade and sought to desperately comfort the 'unusually morbid' goth. To cut a long story short, once the sun was banished by Misery, Ruby sheepishly refused his request to reveal what she was going to say to him in the cave. 'Next sunny day' she had vowed.

He was not giving up so easily though. For crying out loud, considering all the intimate and sometimes embarrassing things they had discovered about each other in the course of their relationship, surely she could trust him with this one. Now, to execute his plan.

* * *

Frank and Len only heard it once their amp was busted; the incessant ringing doorbell. After fumbling with the doorknob, there were greeted with the strange sight of a guy in a red ball cap and a jacket embroidered with the name Paul, levitating on a step. A van marked HIGHTAIL DELIVERY was parked in the street.

"Seven Minute Delivery for a Frank and Len," He informed them, cheerfully.

"Really?" Frank was surprised by the box he handed them the box, "What is it?"

"I have no idea. But it sure does smell good! Sign here, please." He held out a clipboard with a pen attached to it. Len was getting a whiff of the package now, and Paul was right. It smelled scrumptious. The deliveryman reclaimed his clipboard and peeled off the top sheet, handing it back to them. "Pink copy's yours."

They carried the box into the garage and found a knife to open it. Inside the cardboard container was a bundle wrapped in aluminum foil and green ribbon. It was warm to their touch, and its comforting, spicy aroma was enticing. There was a small envelope attached with their names printed on the outside, and they opened it. They had never really tried these kinds of treats before. The rockers were more into fast food but the delectable food items were begging to be tried.

Eagerly pulling back the foil, they uncovered a half dozen fat, triangular baked treats. Lifting one with Frank's fingertips, Len divided it equally into half and each drew in a deep breath, relishing the aroma before they bit into their respective scones.

Oh, goodness gracious…

It was dense and crumbly, perfectly crusty on the outside and light as a feather on the inside. There was just the right amount of spice to it, and just the right touch of sweetness, and just the right hint of something citrusy as the warm, fresh scone melted in their mouths. The sheer goodness of it radiated through them from their tummy outward, and they sighed and smiled with joy as they devoured it. It tasted like Yam Ween...

So they found it extremely cruel of fate to abruptly make the huge tray fly out of the window. Their grief blinded them from seeing the string attached to it or the fleas controlling it. All they knew with their small, shared brain was that they needed it and they would follow them to the centre of the Earth.

Literally.

"SCONES! COME BACK!"

* * *

Iris' lone eye nearly popped out of its single socket while Misery nearly tripped over her high heels. Yes, the banshee wondered from time to time of disasters could be preempted if she had disposed her chunky shoes but the unlucky girl was still a teenager who loved fancy equipment. Such as first-grade first aid kit. Luxurious aloe Vera. Surgery equipment of stainless steel for self-operations.

An extremely rapid response, disaster-proof vehicle carrying a J-79 jet engine to quickly transports its user to the nearest hospital?

She was sure to be the envy of her relatives at the annual family gathering held once a millennium.

The right corner of Skull Boy's mouth lifted, ever so slightly when he noticed the speed demon and unlucky girl in awe of the vehicle he had 'borrowed' from Pat Davidson and added an extra seat by removing some 'unnecessary' parts like air bags. He wore a tailor made suit, black tie, white shirt, and dark sunglasses. In his right ear was an earpiece, connected to something in his suit by a coil of wire. Add a wig hair slicked straight back and down and he was a secret agent. After all, who else could this? Only a descendant of secret agents. Right now, he had to pretend he was a car agent... or an ambulance agent...

There was a short round of 'golf clap applause' and the women piled into the vehicle, with Iris in the seat of honor and Misery taking shotgun.

"Mind you girls, I need you two to test-drive the vehicle. If it purrs, it's good for you. If it survives Misery, it's yours for good."

Iris reached between the two bucket seats, leaned over, and threw the five bulky toggle switches, then turned to watch two analog gauges in front of the passenger seat.

"Okay. We've got a full tank of rocked fuel. Half a bag of munchies, its night, and we're wearing sunglasses. Atomic batteries to power! Turbines to speed!"

Misery pointed a finger straight ahead before she somehow got a splinter from touching the wooden doll with a hula skirt. (What do you call those things?)

"Hit it!"

The classic engine roared, flames bellowed out of the huge central exhaust pipe as the nitro booster kicked in, and the thundered away from the Gloomsville Manor, scattering gravel in its wake.

Skull Boy cautiously expressed his satisfaction once he could no longer see them through his binoculars and only witness the lightning strike bouncing off the ambulance. They were going to be preoccupied for a long time.

Now, for the other three.

* * *

A silken haze shadowed the gibbous moon.

The creature craved fresh meat. Her acute senses picked up an unsuspecting quarry and if she had lips, she likely would have licked them in anticipation. Her teeth glinted menacingly in the darkness. Her nostrils flared in feral delight.

Coiling like a spring, she prepared herself to lunge. Steely sinews propel her towards her helpless prey and once again, Doom Kitty's primal instincts provided sustenance.

Oh, chicken wings...

As she munched on the snacks, she couldn't help but eye the rest of the food items. Soon, her playful side kicked in as she grabbed a nearby baguette and empty bowl. Placing the bowl firmly on her head, she adjusted the bread and pretended that it was a bazooka, and when she 'shot', pieces of the baguette were launched at the dishes. Rolling on the table out of laughter, she composed herself to perform a graceful dive... into the potato salad.

"AIEEE! THERE'S A BLACK CAT HERE! BAD LUCK! BAD LUCK!" Someone shrieked.

Doom glanced back at the ghoul and yawned, as if to say, "Oh, you don't really believe that silly superstition, do you?"

As she basked in the shrieks she caused, she made a mental note to thank Skull Boy for booking a special room in the most luxurious hotel in Gloomsville. Especially when Micheek was having a huge buffet.

* * *

Poe was so excited that he had only buffed his beak in a counterclockwise fashion thirty ONE times instead of thirty TWO times. After all, he was going to be knighted by the Queen of England. At least that was what the parchment letter entailed. Such a shame most of his fellow friends could not attend the ceremony. It would have been nice to see if his brand new flying coffin could really expand to the size of Tiny, the resident giant.

Scaredy Bat was willing to accompany him though. For some strange reason, almost all of the housemates had vanished into thin air. Boo-Boo he could understand, someone had reported him to Mr White and Mr Whyte that the adorable ghost had been slacking the past few weeks with evidence of his pranks including a whoopee bag and an electric buzzer. The little bat found it extremely peculiar especially since Boo Boo had actually been practicing his scare tactics on him much to his honor and horror. Then Frank and Len disappeared with only crumbs left behind. Neither Iris nor Misery were anywhere to be found though he suspected Iris had finally obtained the Harvey motorcycle she wanted for Yam Ween and somehow had persuaded Misery to join her for a ride. Ruby was busy sewing up a storm in the attic and he did not want to risk disturbing her concentration.

The motor purred to life, and he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the avenue. His satellite radio was on the polka channel just to soothe Scaredy's frazzled nerves, and true enough, the infectious accordion made the child hum along and drum his wings on the plush seats.

The first sign that something was wrong was when the song pumping through the speakers suddenly changed to a racket of banjos and fiddles and twangy voices. How had they ended up on the bluegrass channel? Poe's wing flicked the radio control on the steering wheel to switch the music back, but nothing changed. Scaredy cycled through the presets, but the Ol' Mountain Music failed to 'cease and desist' – until it was suddenly replaced by the sedate and elegant sounds of strings and woodwinds in a classical concerto.

At least it was a channel they were both into. Until they felt the vehicle slowing to a stop, and Poe looked up to see that the traffic light ahead of him had turned yellow. Poe grumbled to himself, cursing these new high-tech coffins that thought they knew more about flying than you did. Still, self-braking was a feature he had not been aware of before. Self-parking, collision avoidance, but…

Eventually the light turned green and he hit the gas, and the machine moved forward. By then, Scaredy Bat had effectively tangled himself with numerous seat-belts, activated the air bags and was holding the rear view mirror with a death grip, dreading the dastardly death about to come. It did not help macabre matters when the gentle concerto gave way to a blaring chorus of horns and guitars and men harmonizing in Spanish. "Mariachi? Where did that come from?" Poe wondered aloud, trying to turn off the radio entirely, but the volume only grew louder. Just when the Mexican music was starting to give both of them a headache, the stations changed in swift succession through splashes of elevator music and disco and kiddie lullabies before landing on a heavy metal mashup of grinding guitars and growling voices. There was a brief interlude of reggae before the radio jerked back to the metal station. Then the swinging symphony of saxophones and clarinets in the sort of 1940s music their grandparents would have danced to. Poe made one more attempt to tune the radio away from this stuff fit only for old fogies, but the flying coffin stopped itself at the next red light and he gave up. Scaredy Bat of course did it in a more graceful manner by hyperventilating until he lost consciousness.

They were southbound heading into downtown Gloomsville, and flipped on the left turn signal to head east towards the London portal. Yet when he pushed the lever down, the right arrow began blinking instead, and the flying coffin moved inexorably into the right lane. Poe wrenched the wheel to the left, but it had no effect on the vehicle, which made a smooth turn and proceeded to the west. He shoved his foot down on the brake. The pedal felt right and gave the expected resistance, but it did nothing to alter his speed or direction. Increasingly frantic, he tried shifting gears, shutting off the ignition, unlocking the doors, all to no avail. The flying coffin gave a small jerk and a jolt. The mellow, romantic sounds of the Big Band music still flowing from the speakers made the situation all the more creepy, like some old horror movie about a car that was possessed and had a mind of its own. It was rather odd that the flying coffin was hovering itself more safely than he would have, calmly obeying every speed limit and stop sign along the way. When it came to another red light, Poe pounded on the window and mouthed and pantomimed to the car beside him for aid but the old lady in the passenger seat just gave him a scolding glance as if to say, 'You young hoodlum!', looking away in disdain. Everyone whose attention he tried to attract responded in some useless way or another. The big bruiser in the pickup truck made a crude gesture, the toddler in the rear-facing car seat giggled and waved, and most of the people who saw him simply frowned or rolled their eyes and turned away.

Slowly overpowered by a numbing sense of helplessness, Poe and a knocked out Scaredy were carried onward until the flying coffin approached a driveway and slowed to turn in.  
Without warning, the door locks released with a thunk, and both their seat belts snapped loose. Before he could reach for the handle, the door flew open and in a whoosh, both tumbled out of their seats, ironically making Scaredy Bat come to. Staggering to regain their balance, they glanced around. There was no one in sight, yet as Scaredy backed away from the flying coffin, his feet were swept out from under him and he fell onto the sidewalk. Standing, he whipped his head from side to side, but still could see no one. He took a tentative step or two away from the ominous vehicle, then there was another weird hint of a whoosh and he went flying into the shrubs. Poe was more than ready to dive into the thick bushes until something that felt like a thick boot pressed against the small of his back, and the brick wall came hurtling toward him as he thumped against it. The unseen force spun him face forward, and his gaze flew frantically in all directions, looking and listening for anything, a shadow, a snicker, any sign that he was not completely alone. His knees buckled without warning and hit the dirt, and he was pulled backwards to sit on his heels. Both hands were pinned behind him as if in a vise, but when he craned to look back over his shoulder, he still could see no one. Wild eyed and panting, Poe let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper as he struggled unsuccessfully to break the unyielding phantom grip that restrained his wrists. Then he felt a sudden, sharp pinch where his neck met his shoulder, and the ground rose to meet his face as everything went black…

* * *

Skull Boy felt the park solidify around him and once he had confirmed that there was no one near, tapped the switch on the form-fitting black suit he wore.

Yes, his plan was on a smooth lane. Now, he just needed one last person...

* * *

The house was uncommonly quiet.

Rather than the knowledge relaxing Ruby, however, the silence filled her with a vague sense of unease instead. Her house was never quiet. She heaved a mixed sigh of regret and relief, upset that she had missed an adventure with her dearest friends but glad that she could have the whole household to herself and have some privacy. Absence does make the heart grow fonder after all.

Though, she could never be fond of the scorching heat ever since the events that transpired once Misery left. A nebula of wavy radiation surrounded her until she started believing that it was one big field of it she was going through.

"Maybe I should just relax. I must have overworked myself but at least the clothes are nearly stitched."

Ruby headed towards the Great Hall with a cup of ice and leaned back against the velvet seats, but winced as the undersides of her thighs stuck painfully to the leather. Her lava hair was wilting pitifully under the oppressive heat as she ran some ice cubes along her own forehead. The biting cold of the ice cube seamed to almost sizzle as it came in contact with her flushed face. She closed her eyes, letting the ice melt and run over her burning eyelids and down her cheeks.

"Could it be...?"

Ruby threw open the oaken doors.

The cancerous sun, the cankerous heat and the cantankerous gravel were heart-haunting. Until she was presented with the heart-warming sight of Skull Boy rushing towards her, a Cheshire grin adorning his chiseled skull.

Though she was also quite puzzled with the skeleton's weird attire that even consisted of a grappling hook. Must be a spy.

So why would a spy openly run towards her?

"Hi Skull Boy! I'm guessing Misery left along with the others.

Guess we both have to bear with the heat." Ruby chirped, trying to wipe the perspiration trickling down her neck.

"Actually, you're bearing the heat."

At that, he somehow managed to handcuff her, transform the Great Hall into a dark, grey interrogation room and pointed a spotlight at her, just like in the noir movies she adored. At least it was cold and damp enough to banish the harrowing heat.

"Ok..." Ruby drawled off. This somehow seemed more sinister than the time he thought he came from a long line of pirates... and that was saying something considering his canon only stopped firing when Ruby gave him a strawberry milkshake during the 'No-Strawberry' party.

"Ruby, you are my dearest friend, we have known each since the tender age of 6, that's 8 years. Hence, we should openly express our secrets to each other because ultimately, the basis of a friendship is mutual trust. I understand that you allow me privy to your innermost thoughts regarding us on a sunny day. As you can see, Mr Sun is not going anywhere until you tell me, what the bones were you going to tell me in the caves?!" From a perfectly smooth and suave beginning, his crisp tone deteriorated into a beggar's bellowing.

At that point, Ruby would rather be jammed into the walk-in closet nearby along with all of her cute tops and socks. Not only because the acoustics were great in there and she needed to check if her skeleton model was safely packed in her cute purple purse, she wanted to escape the embarrassment that was sure to fall upon her. It had been a good week since that incident, so she had expected Skull Boy to forget all about it. Apparently, she herself had forgotten Skull Boy's sheer determination that came in every single aspect of his life.

And now, she had no idea how to reply.

Her choices were narrowed down to cowardice and liar. If she swallowed her pride, got up, and left right then, Skull Boy would take offense to her departure. She was not much of a good liar but she could fib a little. A little would not be good to enough though.

As she pondered over her dilemma, he darted out of the room, returning with a fairly large device, setting it up directly in front of her, tapping a microphone positioned right smack in her face. Several lights on the device blinked, and a paper readout steadily fed out a long sheet of steady wavy lines.

"Just for arguments sake."He grinned, patting the voice stress analyzer happily.

Ruby's vision drifted between Skull Boy and the lie detector that seemed to be cutting off her arm's air supply. Choice 1 was out. She was going to have to word this carefully.

"Well…uh…um" She began pathetically, searching for the right words. It was like trying to disarm a bomb. Snip the wrong wire, or in her case, choose the wrong word, and boom! Though, Skulls' shock had far much more destructive potential than any explosive, especially if it was all directed at just one person.

Ruby's heart skipped several beats, but she remained petrified, wave after wave of shock piercing through her.

That was when Skull Boy saw it. A minuscule crystal bead creeping out of her eyes. And he knew it was not rainwater. It was from sheer fear.

Skull Boy shook with disgust. Had he done that? Become Ruby's worst nightmare just to satiate his cursed curiosity? What kind of friend was he?

Did he even deserve to know her secret?

Certainly not then.

If any of his ancestors were disappointed with him... let them be.

* * *

"I must say, I find that fate is in a good mood to bring us all together in the best place to indulge in culinary delights." Poe chuckled, his beak either chattering or chewing his chicken-fried steak.

"Yeah, and now I can't understand why we were so crazy for scones. These chips and dips Skulls ordered are awesome!" Frank managed to get out of his mouth stuffed with mayonnaise and chips until Misery's lightning bolt accidentally burnt all of them.

As most of the gang members squabbled amongst themselves, the skeleton looked away guiltily until a softly smiling Ruby offered him a French fry. It was not her secret but he knew one day, he would be capable of doing so with her full consent and, with everyone he cared for, happy.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: I am doing my happy dance! Well, it's not really a dance, more like some weird seizure on the floor... the dance floor, ya? Never mind. Point is, thank you RebeccaGloom for your request on a vignette featuring your OC Rebecca Gloom and Frank, with the word 'Video Games'. I hope you and everyone here likes it! :D_

_Regarding requests though, I should explain the format more clearly because I pondered over this particular piece for a long time due to the fact that I forgot to obtain the necessary information. Thus, the exemplary format is this;_

**_Word: Puppies_**

**_Genre: Horror/Comfort_**

**_Featuring: Scaredy Bat and Boo-Boo_**

**_Relationship of featured characters: Friendship_**

**_Age of characters: Both are 5 years old _**

**_If one is an OC: Describe him/her in terms of physical traits, personality, strengths, weaknesses, quirks, and their relationship with other characters. You may add more if you feel that it is necessary to do so._**

_I'll send the one who requested it a PM featuring the drabble and ask for his/her approval. If it has been deemed unsatisfactory, please explain why and if you want, we can work together to amend my mistakes. If it is satisfying, I'll post it! For guests, you can either give me your emails or create a FanFiction account. If you wish to remain anonymous, I'll promise not to reveal your identity though anonymous is such a sad name, no? All sorts of pairings are accepted!_

_So hit that review button and criticize or request! ;}_

Fights for Love

When Frank had followed Ruby's suggestion of offering a game night with to cousin for romance, an image of Rebecca playing monopoly or clue came into his head. He had just dismissed Len's hopeful thought of her being a chick gamer who wielded an awesome gun. The founder of RIP (Rest in Pieces) only became worried when Skull Boy ominously quipped how 52% gamers were now women and gaming industries could no longer afford to overlook them. Other than that, Skull Boy had kept tight-lipped about the entire event until the actual day itself.

Still, Frank knew it was going to be one of the weirdest days of his life with Rebecca Gloom. And he was right.

"This is so much cooler than monopoly!" Len exclaimed, inspecting the 80'' TV, console, sound system and all the equipment that made up Rebecca's hobby.

"I know, I know! And guess what? Now is the ultimate season of the year in Gloomsville only, zombies are going to be our allies!" Rebecca squealed, randomly pulling out a zombie hand. Five winds later, she belched at the sight of it and just tossed it out of her window. Rather than hearing a cry of protest against killer-litter, they received a grateful shout of 'Thanks!' from the wondering zombie.

"You're welcome! Now I have free hands to get the snacks!" She chirped eagerly, massaging her hands as if they were sore from lifting a heavy detached arm before disappearing into the kitchen. As the pots clanged, Frank used that to hide his whisper to his twin,

"Er... Len, care to tell me what's this game?"

"Duh, Call of Duty. I always play it whenever you are mooning about Rebecca or trying to write a song."

Well, at least now he knew why there was always a rather war-like background noise every time he was 'seriously contemplating the meaning of life and not a hyperactive girl like Rebecca'. Or the weird story lines that he had been 'hallucinating' about too often so he converted them into song lyrics.

Frank replied in an assenting sort of grunt, unable to manage anything else as he sat down on one end of the couch. When he had realized that game night involved some form of a video game, he had talked Skull Boy into bringing a spare system over so they could sit on different furniture altogether. After all, if he knew Rebecca well, the zealous brunette, she would accidentally launch a controller into his mouth. Instead of understanding this, he had managed to set up both systems on the same TV so once the animatronic came back, she would be undeniably so close to him that not even she can joke about it. Something told him though that Ruby, ever the matchmaker, had given the skeleton rose-tinted sunglasses for no legitimate reason other than the fact to convince her usually oblivious and nonchalant 'boyfriend' (though the redhead and baldie avoided using the term yet) that it would be crucial for Frank and Rebecca to increase direct contact, keeping the relationship boost at maximum.

However, he highly doubted it was possible because the last time he had played a video game was when Aunt Rockella got a Sega at a garage sale and they played Sonic for a measly minute before it exploded. There would be no bonding between him and his ghoul if he could not even find a common topic to dwell on for Game Night.

He picked up the controller, flinching away from it as if it was a time bomb, but his brother, ever the avid gamer, eagerly reached for it and getting them set up in the system. It was obvious Len knew what he was doing. For once, the tables were turned as Len took charge calmly, creating their account and putting them down as wEaRErESTiNpIECES.

"Right. Here – so you move using the left stick," Len showed him on the controller. "Jump, crouch, attack, aim for- CUPCAKES!" He went through the controller as quickly as possible until Rebecca arrived with a platter of cupcakes... on her feet.

Both of them marveled at how she easily walked with her hands as she handed them each a cupcake though their awe rapidly transformed into horror when they realized the amount of strawberries on the treats. She might as well have served them a bowl of the aforementioned fruits instead. Still, they laughed much to Rebecca's delight when she somersaulted to the couch, unaware of Frank's heavy blush at their proximity.

"Alright-ie! Time for a friendly game of war! Ready dudes?"

'Nope, course not.' Frank bellowed... in his head. However, he instantly felt better as he managed to help Len move their avatar with his blue hand. He could forget that his leg (and technically Len's) was touching Rebecca's and his messed up feelings about it while concentrating on the game.

Almost.

"Ack – no – that's the jump button. Crouch! Crouch you fool!" Rebecca glanced at the conjoined brothers' half of the screen just in time to see their character die, Frank still mashing on the wrong button.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" One of the other players asked.

"Not really!" Frank said as his character re-spawned.

Rebecca tried to keep her eyes on her own side of the screen, but Frank kept jumping and cringing right next to him on the couch. People on their team were getting angry – and more than a little rude.

"Frank – where're you going? And I know it's not Len with the joystick." She asked as she watched his character run in a seemingly directionless manner.

"I don't know, I forgot how to shoot! I just know how to run!"

"Watch out for that guy-" Len mewled as Frank shrieked and dropped the controller.

"Augh – you dumb noob. Go make me a sandwich."

There was a click and the chatter of the other players died – Rebecca changing them to a private channel.

_"YOU MADE A PROMISE! HOW DARE YOU?! AND TO MY **BOYFRIEND** OF ALL PEOPLE?!"_

Frank gave her a curious look, shocked to see his normally sweet beau act in such an aggressive manner but Rebecca stared fixedly at the screen, her blood boiling in her ears as the swift kick she delivered to her own television made the screen flicker. A new team list appeared.

Listed on her team was herself, Frank and Len listed while on the other team were the rude members of her previous team, and all of them, both new teams, were in the common chat. Perfect, the television had understood her request, that she wanted them to hear their demise.

The other team was making confused chatter. Then with her digitalized voice over her comm, she sang,

_"Don't let them in."_

She ordered an airstrike.

_"Don't let them see."_

And another.

_"Be the good girl you always have to be."_

And one more just to be sure. The bombs started falling.

_"Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know!"_

"Wait! You can't do that!"

"Well now they know!"

"The McNuggets?"

"You can't do that!"  
_  
"Let it go, let it go!"_

"Hey! This isn't right! Can't you even come up with something original, you freaky banshee?!"

At that, Rebecca, Frank and Len turned to each other slowly but knowingly. Then they disregarded their sweet voices and angelic harmony present during their band practices in favor of belting out their new song as loud as they continued their revamped second verse.

**_"Can't stop the bombs anymore! Let it shoot, let it shoot! Run away like a scared babe!"_**

Rebecca popped out of her hiding spot and started spraying bullets. The chatter from the other team was being drowned out by trio until almost all members of the opposing group were virtually dead.

Rebecca seized her nearby trumpet and blew a two tone blast before declaring to their shocked audience in an initially solemn time,

"My lords and ladies, pray attend. Harken as I present unto thee myself, the Ruler of the Unseelie Court, the Winter Lady, Empress of the Night, Magestrix of the Ice and Snow, Maab, the Queen of Air and Darkness! And she doesn't make sandwiches! That's for you guys, sillies!"

Only when she giggled at that last line did the screen flicker again, and they were disconnected from the game. The moment of silence dragged on for an eternity until Len broke it,

"How did you do that? I'm fairly certain the game isn't supposed to do that."

"Yeah, well... people shouldn't be such meanies." She was still glowering. She hadn't had to punish any pigs for a while. After all, Rebecca had gotten too good for anyone to think of saying anything to her. Yet she hated that Frank's first impression of the game was that it was full of idiots. She had really wanted to share this with him, she realised. Really wanted to develop their relationship. She'd even thought that this could be a regular thing.

"Sorry," She said in an uncharacteristic despondent voice, not daring to look at Frank. "We could try offline play, so we don't have to deal with them and I can explain the controls better..."

"That's okay," Frank said, patting her knee, in an effort to comfort her. "How about you play, and I can watch?" He suggested, gingerly putting the controller down on the coffee table like it might explode on him much to Len's protest until Frank discreetly pinched his elfin ears to knock out the other lead guitarist of RIP. "I want to watch you play. I'm sorry I can't really appreciate this thing.

Watching Rebecca play was much more fun than playing himself, Frank decided. Not nearly as stressful. Frank was allowed to inspect her face closely, to the point one could make out individual, intriguing freckles all across her face and realize she even had them on her eyelids.

Oddly, Rebecca was calm for once, even a calculating strategist. She didn't get rattled by all the people shooting at her, or by the air strikes. She gave orders, and the other players actually followed them.

And she was having fun. She was leaning forward, biting her lip as the clock counted down. After every tense moment, she let out a breath. Filed to perfection, her Venus-red fingernails ran through her nougat-brown hair. Spools of it plunged around her photogenic face and hid a swan's neck, elegant and smooth.

When the game was won – Rebecca's team just having recaptured a flag moment before – they turned to each other.

Her honey orbs were shining with excitement and happiness – pure, unadulterated happiness. Enthralled. Frank's knee was still touching her own, a source of warmth that Rebecca was hyper aware of all of a sudden.

Rebecca's bangs had started to come loose from her bun, after all the times she had tugged on her hair. A lock was partially covering one of those warm eyes.

Frank reached out and pushed it back, tucking Rebecca's hair behind her ear and ignoring the rumbling snores of Len.

Frank wasn't sure why she was whispering his name; something about being in a small pink polka-dotted room at nighttime by themselves created an intimate feeling. Especially the creepy bunnies eerily resembling Thumper. Frank doubted that even her pet rabbit couldn't ruin the moment.

"I've been meaning to say this for a long time..."

Frank inhaled sharply until Rebecca finally opened her mouth,

"I do make sandwiches. I lied earlier."

* * *

"Ok, I admit. When I play matchmaker, I should check if there are any window opportunities for a situation like that to occur." Ruby conceded defeat as she and Skull Boy watched the grainy footage of Frank laughing his head off.

"I want my hundred by tomorrow...", was all Skull Boy said. Ruby sighed at the loss of baking soda but she had lost the bet. Even with extra help, there would never really be a romantic moment between Frank and Rebecca, their romance was like a comedy skit.

Yet, as she saw Rebecca's contended smile and Frank's tears of laughter that still failed to wake Len up, she was glad she was proven wrong. Sometimes, romance was not obvious but you will eventually know if there could be a deeper relationship between two people... they just needed a little jolt from video games... and maybe a descendant of excellent hackers...


End file.
